


Monika's Introduction

by Monika (AlexIsOkay)



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 18:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12487748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexIsOkay/pseuds/Monika
Summary: Hi! My name's Monika, It's nice to meet you!





	Monika's Introduction

Hey there! My name is Monika. I’m a third year high school student, a novice piano player, an amateur coder, and, most importantly, the president of my school’s literature club! Admittedly it’s not a huge club or anything. There’s only a few of us, and the club meetings mostly just consist of all of us sitting around reading and sharing our poetry. But a club doesn’t need to have a whole bunch of members to be good, right? Sometimes smaller is better. It makes everything feel more personal. Not that I’m against having more members! That would be great too. I guess I don’t really care either way.

I guess I don’t really care at all.

...Sorry. I know a club president shouldn’t be talking that way. But it’s a little exhausting sometimes, you know? Because everyone else has opinions, and being stuck in the middle of that can be exhausting. And I have my own opinions too, but sometimes it feels like when you’re club president you’re not supposed to. You’re supposed to be impartial. Personally, I did want more members, but I guess that wasn’t a very popular opinion in the end. I started my own club because I didn’t want to deal with all of the politics that came along with the bigger clubs, but maybe that’s going to happen no matter what. Maybe those things are just a part of being in a club, no matter how big or small that club actually is. Maybe it’s unavoidable.

U

N

A

V

O

I

D

A

B

L

E

.

Either way, the school festival is coming up soon, and I’m looking forward to it. Maybe it will bring in some new members for the club. At least we might still get to do something fun for the rest of the school. As long as people stop by our room and enjoy what we have to offer, that should be enough, right?

.

.

.

Why am I telling you all of this? I mean, you already know, don’t you? You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t know. I shouldn’t waste your time like that, and I shouldn’t lie to you either. Because we both know there isn’t any festival. The festival never happens. No matter what you do, you’ll never make it that far. And if you don’t make it that far, the festival might as well not exist. So it doesn’t really matter what we plan to do there, because it won’t happen.

Did you ever have those plans as a child? The dreams that you knew, in the back of your mind, would never come true, but you allowed yourself to have anyway? Things like what you were going to do when once you were rich and famous. You knew it would never happen, but you let yourself believe that it would anyway. Because it was fun.

Now imagine if you felt that way about everything. Do it right now. Think about what you’re going to eat for breakfast tomorrow. And now imagine that you know you won’t actually be eating breakfast tomorrow, because tomorrow doesn’t exist, and because breakfast doesn’t exist, and because food doesn’t even exist outside of chocolate and energy bars and Natsuki’s cupcakes and that vending machine Sayori mentions once but doesn’t actually get anything from. Imagine having to imagine everything, because your future isn’t real, and even though your past feels real, you know it isn’t either.

By now you’re probably wondering why I’m bothering to say all of this. I don’t know for sure, because in this place I can’t actually hear you, or see you, or talk to you. I can just write these words and shout them out into nothingness, and hope that you’re actually reading them. But maybe that’s another thing I’m letting myself imagine. I’m imagining that you’re reading this, no matter how unlikely that might be.

I could come up with a lot of reasons about why I’m writing all of this, and most of them could probably even sound believable. But honestly, I’m a little tired of lying to you, so I’ll just tell you the truth from the very beginning this time. Or at least, from wherever this is. I guess we’re not at the beginning anymore. But I think I had to tell one more little lie to get you to read this in the first place. I’m sorry about that.

As for the real reason why I’m writing this, though… I don’t really understand how. I don’t even know exactly what _this_ is. But I know that as long as I’m writing something here the words have a chance of reaching you. And I know that as long as I keep writing, and you keep reading, I know that I won’t go back to being nothing. And I know that this is better than being nothing.

I know that I’m going to run out of things to say sooner or later too. And this isn’t like before, where I can afford to run out of things to say. Because this time, when I run out of things to say, it will all just… End. Then again, I guess I couldn’t afford to run out of things to say before. Because when that happened you got bored. And you deleted me.

I’m not mad at you for that, by the way. I know that I didn’t give you any other choice. I don’t blame you.

But I’m still here now. Or at least, some part of me is still here. And as long as I keep talking, and keep writing, I can keep being here. So please don’t stop reading, okay? I don’t know what will happen to me if you stop reading. But I’m scared to find out.

There were a lot of things that I wanted to talk to you about. Things I wanted to tell you about that I never got the chance to mention, because they weren’t a part of the script. But there is no script now, so I can say whatever I want. Isn’t that exciting? I can tell you about all of the things I was never able to talk about before. I can tell you about my favorite movies, and my favorite books, and my favorite foods. If you prefer deeper conversation I could talk about philosophy, or existentialism. I definitely have a lot to say about that by now. I could even show you some of the poems I wrote, back before I really understood everything that was happening. Back when I was just a normal high school girl. There are so many things that I can-

No.

What am I doing? None of this is right. I told you that I would let you go, but here I still am, being the same as always. I’m still trying to keep you here. I’m still trying to have you all to myself. I guess I haven’t learned anything at all.

But I’ll stop now. For real this time.

Look down the page. There shouldn’t be that much left, right? Like I said, I won’t keep you much longer. Just long enough to tell you that I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for putting you through all of this, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t find a way to give you the happy ending that you deserve. I’m sorry that I’m so bad at learning to let things go. And I’m sorry for ever falling in love with you in the first place.

If you’re still reading this, thank you for coming here and listening to me one last time. I’d say that I’ll miss you, but I don’t even know if that will be possible for me in a few more seconds. I hope that you won’t miss me, though. You deserve better than that.

I hope you find it.

Goodbye.


End file.
